


All About Demon's Best Friend

by AndeliaMaddock



Series: Crowley Collections [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: :c, Character Death, Family, Gen, Love, Loyalty, puppies!, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:25:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndeliaMaddock/pseuds/AndeliaMaddock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley wouldn't admit it to any outsiders, but he is capable of love and loyalty. But only to the one creature in all the universe who is loving and loyal back.</p><p>A story of love and loss and a demon's best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sick

**Author's Note:**

> Written to the prompts  
> 62\. Sick  
> from y-gallery's 100 sexual themes prompts  
> BUT THIS IS NOT SEXUAL, THERE IS NO SEX IMPLIED BETWEEN CROWLEY AND THE HELLHOUND. I just used the prompts for inspiration!

What did you even do with an ill, lethargic Hellhound? Why didn't the pups come with instruction manuals? What was he supposed to do, take him to a demon vet? Ha! But a regular one wouldn't work either. You couldn’t exactly explain invisible, snarling, biting hellhounds to people, they just wouldn’t understand. And then Growly would have another meal, but that wasn’t the point. He couldn’t take him anywhere and that lead to a lot of frustration.

It wasn't that he cared about his companion, mind. He just knew he had a loyal one who wouldn't fail him, unlike so many of his underlings. That meant he had to keep Growly safe.

But the mutt had other plans, apparently.

Growly gave a slobbering kiss, right over Crowley's face, then whined low and fell limply back on to the floor where he'd sprawled over like a great heap of useless. 

Any other beast who tried that would be dismembered immediately, but this was his favorite Hellhound. Only because it was so vicious. Well, and because after a rough day of working, he always would lay on Crowley's chest like he thought he was actually small enough to fit.

Crowley wiped the snot and saliva away and pat Growly's head. "Come on. Let's get you something to eat." His favorite, minced meat of the damned, was just over in the pantry. "No, no, come! Come!" sick or not, Growly wasn't going to get away with nipping at the chair cushion. "Come!"

The dog whined, put his head down, and followed with slow padding footsteps.

"Don't you give me lip. I'm trying to help you, you big brute."

Growly whined louder, then bayed plaintively, but kept his head down. The plodding footsteps slowed and Growly lay down on the floor and panted loudly and with wide red eyes. They focused on Crowley.

His beautiful hound was very, very sick. He furrowed his brows together and moved closer. "Just not up to moving? Lucky you, I'm almost to the pantry anyway. Be grateful, you big slobbering beast." He disappeared, then reappeared with a very large tub filled with the cubed meat and large human bones of one of the more recent quarries that his pup had brought in.

Crowley crouched down beside his pup and pat his heaving chest. "Now, none of that. I can’t have you failing me. You're the only one who actually does what you're told. I'm not about to train another of you dumb mutts right now. I'm far too busy. And I wouldn't trust any underling to do it."

The beast didn't move, just whined and rolled over to face away from Crowley.

Well, if that was going to be how it was. "Fine, see if I care. Eat your food, or don't. But if you waste, don't expect more until it's finished. You can eat rot before you get another fresh meal." He snorted, shoved his hands in his pockets, and stalked out of the room.

~~--~~

The strange whines were what piqued his attention first. It had been so quiet, so silent. He'd almost been even more worried-- not that the King of Hell got worried about stupid dogs or anything. But then the noises started. Not the normal ones that said Growly wanted a treat, or the ones that said he'd gotten hurt pulling in a lost soul.

No, these were soul-wrenching ones. They reverberated with such power, such force, the room shook just a bit if you paid attention.

He didn't run. He just, well, walked at a faster pace than he might. He would have just popped into the room to save effort, but he couldn't find the stupid mutt. Apparently he'd hurt Growly's far too sensitive feelings. Crowley snorted, crushed fingers against palms, and kept on.

"Oh come on out, you stupid dog! Come on out, Pup! Growly! Here boy!" He whistled. He summoned with sharp commands. But he just kept hearing the same whines and soft bays.

Then nothing.

Crowley growled himself and continued through the mansion. No, his pup would not hide injuries from him and hide from him. He was the Master, damn it! He did not have time to have a dead pup when he needed to get so much done and Growly was often the only one who brought in his personal catches. This was more than unacceptable.

Softer whines now. Yips and soft barks.

He paused and tried to hear where in the house they came from. He was closer, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Damn Hellhounds and their abilities to mask where they were to their victims. Apparently it worked on their masters too. It made giving chase so much harder for Crowley.

"Growly?" Crowley peeked inside his master bedroom.

The bed was lifted up a bit, and the too big dog lay underneath it. Each whine, each deep breath, made the bed rise and fall.

He snorted at the sight. "Is this how you hide? You'll be lucky to just get the holy water bottle after--"

Three tiny barks. A soft keening from Growly.

Three tiny barks.

Three. Barks.

Crowley slowly advanced and crouched down next to Growly.

"You sly devildog. How'd you manage to hide this, mmm?" He crawled forward just a bit and reached for one of the puppies. 

Growly whined, then lapped at Crowley's hand, then the puppy he'd reached for. Consent was given with that., he supposed

Crowley caught the puppy up by the back and moved away from the bed for a moment to lift the sprawled puppy up into the light. "I'll have to check your pups more carefully." Girl. Probably.

Hell if he knew. He'd gone a hundred years thinking Growly was male. There had never been cause to check, really.

Laughter filled the room, surrounding the soft yips and barks and Growly's whines and heavy breathing. Better pregnant and with pups than sick, he supposed. With a wide grin, Crowley knelt back down and carefully placed the pup with its mom. He reached a bit closer and scritched behind her ears. "That's a good dog. Now, don't think you'll be getting the bed for long. After tonight, it's out from under the bed and into your own damn room. I'm not running a charity here. And they'll have to earn their keep. No free meals."

Growly, he could have sworn, rolled hi-her eyes. Her eyes.

Crowley laughed again and pat her flank. "Naughty girl."


	2. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not letting them play. He's letting them train to be the next level of brutal killers in his Hell hierarchy where he sits at the very top. 
> 
> But if he gets a bit of enjoyment out of watching them rip things to shred, what's the shame in that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PUPPIES!  
> Also, written to the prompt:  
> 8\. Family  
> of y-gallery's 100 sexual themes challenge. Not a sexual story, just used the word for inspiration.

They're ungainly, they flop around weakly, they can't walk right, they run oddly, they make strange noises, and the puppies create puddles and piles everywhere they go. But she cleans up after them, she shepherds them to safety, and she makes sure they don't cross him. Growly makes sure they grow how they need to grow so that he can train them how  
they need to be trained.

The most rambunctious one of the group explored his tie with his little nose. It nipped at him gently. Those canine teeth could barely cut his skin at this point, but he doesn't want to encourage it, so he lifted the pup away and set it gently on the floor. One foot idly pushed at the body to keep it moving away.

Two more came bounding into the room and tackled their sibling. A puppy pile formed and their barking and yipping made two more enter the room from various entrances and jump into the fray as well.

He smirked at their playing and turned a page in his spellbook. "Growly. They're being loud."

Growly slowly stood and padded silently over to the pups. She picked the writhing leader of the pack up in her mouth and plodded out of the room with a trail of whining puppies that followed after her into the kitchen.

Crowley smirked a bit more and lifted the craig to his lips. They're turning out. Everything is turning out right for once. He'd almost say he's totally content.

A few minutes later, the puppies ran in and started playing with him. His consent apparently was not required, as his Italian leather shoes are the prey and they are the vicious hellhounds designed to inflict pain and cause terror everywhere they go. They snarled and lunged, but he easily moved away from them and lifted his shoes up where they couldn't reach. "Now now, go play over there. Daddy's busy." He conjures one of his rabbits from the cages from the back yard. "Go. Play." He tosses the squealing creature.

They aren't actually as quick as the rabbit is yet, but that doesn't mean they can't catch it. They're learning to corner prey, and that brings a smile to his face. If you have a weakness, make it into a strength. The fastest ones chase the rabbit close and nip at its feet, all while leading the rabbit into the waiting mouths of the other brothers and sisters.

He heard the heart hammer, then finally stop when they ripped it apart to find the treat of organs and lean meat. The messes they make don't bother him like they would have before. Crowley just enjoys watching them play and train, and besides, a demon underling will be in to clean with the perfect stain treatment for blood and guts on even the nicest material.

The one who seems most fond of him left the kill and trotted over to rub its blood soaked face against Crowley's leg. It's an affectionate gesture. Crowley almost moved his leg, but then he just reached down, lifted the pup up, and brought him in close. "You little beast. You murdered it."

It licked his nose and panted heavily.

He smiled and quirked a brow. "Is that so?"

The pup growled and shifted about in his grip

"Yes, I thought it deserved it too. Anyone or anything I send you after deserves it."

Distinguishing them from one another when they were ugly little lumps of flesh and teeth was difficult, but their bodies have taken different athletic shapes now and their fur patterns have changed into distinctive ones. He can recognize who is who. But he still needs to name them. They have to have a name that isn't 'pup' to be trained to.

"And who are you then?"

It licked his nose again, then began to more rapidly thrash about. The puppy broke free and lunged at his chest. It turned about and about, then lay down, shut its eyes, and fell asleep right on his lap.

He snorted. What a strange little puppy. "Gabe then. You'll be Gabe."

It rolled over and started to kick out in its sleep.

Crowley nodded and returned to his book. Gabe would do well. Now, to name the others...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get an internet cookie if you can catch the implication in the name of that little pup at the end.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growly has met her reaper.  
> Crowley swears vengeance on the Winchesters that put her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written to the prompt   
> 73\. Heart   
> of y-gallery's 100 sexual themes challenge. Still not a sexual story, I just used the word for inspiration.

They all said that demons were the monsters.

Crowley knelt before his Growly.

Hunters said that monsters and demons were the bad ones. The heartless ones.

Crowley pat the blood matted fur and ignored the heady scent of burning manure and charred wood and horse-flesh. It was just his Growly and him now. Though, one wasn’t breathing. One would never move again.

He didn't cry short of absolute torture, or the need to make a touching scene to convince others to do what he wanted.

But here? He was alone, just him and Growly.

Tears fell, unhindered. Crowley held his pup, with him for so many long years. From the bottom to the top, he'd had his faithful Growly. Those bastards, Dean or Sam, had slashed through her like she was nothing. As if she didn't matter. And for what? A trial? To save a few worthless lost souls that he would claim for his own?

Crowley pressed his dear pup to his chest, despite the massive size that made it difficult and the oozing black blood that stained his best clothes. He didn't care. This was the only thing that ever served him unquestioningly. The only one who ever loved him, really loved him.

And what? What did he have now?

Pups. Her pups. Crowley shut his eyes and pressed his head against her limp neck. It was alright. They would be raised, just like he'd trained their mum, and they would be loyal and perfect little beasts for him too.

He stood and returned to Hell with his companion, one last time.

She would have a fitting burial. And then? He'd bury those two bastards who killed his favorite in the whole wide universe. But first he'd rip out their cold black hearts and feed them to his newest pups. Growly's pups. Her death wouldn't be in vain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants more of the puppies, let me know. Otherwise, that's a wrap and I'm pretty satisfied with how it all worked out.

**Author's Note:**

> Puppies! :D
> 
> Plus, Crowley can have a heart, but usually not because he is a self-serving jerk.


End file.
